Chapter 88: The Mouse Spirit Rune

“The Earth Immortal Path is not for the faint of heart, Great King,” the Winged Tiger explained, his voice hushed with a mix of reverence and fear.

“When a Qi Condensation cultivator attempts to break through to Foundation Establishment using this method, they must make an absolute sacrifice. They must burn everything—their Magic Power, their Divine Sense, and even the Spirit Seed condensed from their very life essence—into the void.”

“By doing so, they carve out a tiny, self-contained Secret Realm. A world of their own.”

The Tiger shook his head. “But the requirements for control are insane. If your Divine Sense wavers by a hair’s breadth, you don’t just fail. You undergo Body Death and Dao Dissipation. You cease to exist.”

“However,” the Tiger added, seeing Wu Yuan’s contemplative look, “the rewards are tempting. Earth Immortals live significantly longer than their Human Immortal counterparts. And inside their Secret Realm, they are gods. They are safe from the chaos of the outside world.”

“So why don’t demons cultivate it?” Wu Yuan asked.

“Two reasons,” the Tiger replied, counting on his claws. “First, we demons are… clumsy. Our souls are wild. We lack the delicate touch required to weave space and time. We’d blow ourselves up.”

“Second, we don’t need the lifespan. Once a demon reaches Foundation Establishment, we naturally outlive humans by centuries. Why risk death for a few extra years?”

“Besides,” the Tiger grinned, revealing his fangs, “we demons are unruly by nature. Who wants to hide in a hole? The Human Immortal Path—Qi Condensation, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, Soul Formation, Ascension—is all about accumulating power. It’s about crushing your enemies and sweeping through the eight directions. That is the path of the true predator.”

“Though,” the Tiger added as an afterthought, “I did hear the Clan Leader mention a ‘Heaven Immortal Path’ from the ancient era, but that lineage is long dead.”

Wu Yuan sat on his throne, his chin resting on his paw.

He heard the Tiger’s warnings, but his brain had latched onto a single phrase: ‘A self-contained Secret Realm… safe from the outside world.’

Wait a minute, Wu Yuan thought, his heart beginning to thump against his ribs. A private dimension? Safe from enemies?

That doesn’t sound like a cultivation path.

That sounds like… a farm.

Wu Yuan’s “farming genes”—the ancestral urge of every strategy gamer to build a base and turtle up—began to vibrate violently.

He realized his current situation was precarious. Sure, he had the [Fox Immortal Qi Condensation Method], but that was a trash-tier manual. It taught him how to eat Spiritual Qi and move it around, but it said nothing about breaking through to the next realm. It was a dead end.

Most demons didn’t have this problem. They had “Bloodline Inheritances”—manuals encoded into their DNA.

But Wu Yuan? He was a Bloodline Source. He was the Progenitor.

His DNA was a blank sheet of paper.

The Good News: He was the admin. He could write whatever code he wanted into his bloodline. The Bad News: He had to write the code from scratch.

“Do you know where I can find a manual for the Earth Immortal Path?” Wu Yuan asked, leaning forward.

The Winged Tiger scratched his head, looking helpless. “Great King, you’re asking the wrong crowd. We demons don’t ‘study’. We just sleep and get stronger. The Earth Immortal Path is rare enough among humans; for demons, it’s practically non-existent. Maybe some of the Tier 3 Royal Clans have a jade slip collecting dust in a vault, but my clan? Definitely not.”

Wu Yuan sighed, the disappointment heavy in his chest. “Then where did your clan get its Blessed Land?”

The Winged Tiger puffed out his chest, beaming with pride.

“We stole it!”

“According to the elders, our ancestor fought in the Great Human-Demon War. He spotted a human ‘False Core’ cultivator who was bleeding out, ambushed him, and dragged him back to the cave.”

The Tiger mimed a digging motion. “We tortured him for decades! Eventually, he broke and spat out the coordinate anchor for his Blessed Land. We dug it right out of his soul!”

Wu Yuan covered his face with his paws.

I really shouldn’t have expected anything else, he thought, regretting his high expectations of demon civilization.

Seeing Wu Yuan’s pained expression, the Winged Tiger scrambled to offer a solution. “Great King! If you really want an Earth Immortal manual, don’t look at us. Go dig up the Azure Radiance Grotto-Heaven! That place is an ancient human ruin. It’s bound to have a legacy left behind!”

Wu Yuan’s eyes snapped open. “Little Tiger… you are a genius! A true Demon Talent!”

Of course!

Even if there wasn’t a manual, obtaining a Grotto-Heaven itself would be a massive windfall. It was the ultimate real estate.

The Karma Pearl connected to the Grotto-Heaven in the last intelligence report, Wu Yuan calculated. Maybe I can use it like a GPS.

He immediately summoned the Karma Pearl from his inventory. He focused his intent on the “Azure Radiance Grotto-Heaven.”

The mysterious pearl hovered in the air. It spun slowly… and then deliberately turned its back to him.

It sat there, floating motionless, radiating a palpable sense of indifference.

Wu Yuan stared at it. Don’t ask me how a perfectly round sphere has a ‘back’, he thought irritably. It just does. And it’s mocking me.

Still, it moved. That meant a connection existed.

“Fine,” Wu Yuan grumbled, dismissing the pearl. “One step at a time. First, I need to break through to the mid-stage of Qi Condensation.”

For the next several days, Wu Yuan entered secluded cultivation.

His goal: The Bloodline Spirit Rune.

Since unlocking his Divine Sense—the demonic equivalent of Divine Sense—his progress had accelerated exponentially. Before, he was trying to draw a picture in the dark. Now, he had a flashlight.

Inside his Sea of Consciousness, Wu Yuan floated in the void. He began to paint with his mind.

He wasn’t drawing a dragon or a tiger. He was drawing a mouse.

The design was simple, minimalistic even. Just a few strokes, but they captured the essence of the creature—scurrying, hiding, surviving.

Wu Yuan entered a trance state. His focus was razor-sharp, yet his body remained completely relaxed.

Tail… done. Claws… done. Body… done.

Only the head remained. This was the bottleneck. He had failed here dozens of times, the construct collapsing under its own instability.

Inhale. Exhale.

The only sound in the universe was the rhythm of his own breath.

Suddenly, a spark of clarity struck him—he felt a moment of profound insight. It was as if an invisible hand guided his mental brush.

He didn’t hesitate. He slashed the final stroke to complete the head.

SNAP!

The rune stabilized.

“Success!”

A glowing, crimson Mouse Spirit Rune hovered in the center of his mind.

Wu Yuan watched, mesmerized. Suddenly, the rune twitched.

It didn’t just sit there; it woke up.

The little red light-mouse shook itself off, raised its head, and squeaked soundlessly. Then, it began to run laps around Wu Yuan’s Sea of Consciousness, moving with a jubilant, chaotic energy.

“What the…” Wu Yuan muttered mentally. “It’s alive? But what does it actually do?”

As if insulted by the question, the Spirit Rune stopped running. It turned to face Wu Yuan’s consciousness, opened its mouth, and chattered angrily.

Then, it leaped.

It dove straight out of his mind and vanished into the darkness of his body.

Gurgle.

A sound echoed in Wu Yuan’s ears. It sounded like a gentle brook babbling over stones.

Then the volume rose.

Rush!

The brook became a stream. The stream became a river.

ROAR!

The river became a tsunami. The sound of crashing waves and rolling thunder exploded inside his skull, deafening him.

Wu Yuan realized with a jolt: That isn’t water. That’s my blood!

The blood surge.

His consciousness faded into the roar, and he fell into a deep, coma-like slumber.

The next morning.

Wu Yuan opened his eyes.

He felt incredible. His mind was clear, his vision sharp, and his body hummed with a dense, explosive power.

He sat up and immediately frowned. His fur felt disgusting.

Looking down, he saw that his sleek black coat was caked in a layer of gray, foul-smelling powder.

“Is this… the legendary Marrow Cleansing?”

Wu Yuan’s heart leaped with joy. He scrambled to his feet, shaking off the dried crud.

As he stood, he stumbled. The ground felt… closer? No, further away?

His perspective had shifted.